


Scattered to the Wind

by lightsinthedistance



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Smut, Mildly Dubious Consent, Planet Coruscant (Star Wars), She/her pronouns, Third Person POV, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:12:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29986842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightsinthedistance/pseuds/lightsinthedistance
Summary: “Waves of nostalgia shattered him to his core. The same eyes that had always gazed at him so lovingly bore into him. The same lips that he had kissed over a thousand times begged to be gently run over by his fingers. The same radiant, beautiful smile threatened to force him to his knees before her.”Poe Dameron had left her behind eight years ago, set on chasing his dream of becoming who he’d always aspired to be. As some of the most tumultuous years in the history of the galaxy unfold, they unexpectedly reunite in the midst of a war.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Original Character(s), Poe Dameron/Original Female Character(s), Poe Dameron/Reader, Poe Dameron/You
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This is set about three years before the Force Awakens (which took place in 34 ABY). It’s my first long fic, so I hope that goes well! Lastly, this does star an OC of mine, but she could definitely be used as a proxy for a reader. Hope you enjoy!

_People scatter to the wind like thousands of grains of sand...shifting, interacting, separating...each meaningless and worthless on a universal scale, yet monumental and life-changing to those around them._

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

23 ABY, Verlan (Spice Distribution Hub), Mid Rim

_Staring. She was just staring. Out into the void, the horizon slowly disappearing along with the setting sun._

_Her silhouette against the light suggested an emptiness to Poe as his eyes remained locked on her back. “Come with me,” he whispered._

_The room they stood in was small, a minor portion of the Spice-filled ship they were in, one they shared with the rest of the crew. The air was too cold to be deemed comfortable._

_“Come with me to Hosnian Prime.”_

_It was a last ditch attempt. A last plea after weeks of pleading. Her voice came out as just a whisper, a partially concealed shake to it, preparing to shatter him._

_“I’m sorry.” She angled her body even further away from him._

_He knew that there were tears in her eyes. He was certain._

_“Go be a hero, Poe Dameron. Go be that pilot you’ve always dreamed of being.”_

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

26 ABY, Galactic City, Coruscant

_Every hair stood up on the back of her neck as her feet moved forward, one in front of the other, down the dark street. It was cold, a match to the hardness that this city had become. Barely recognizable, her eyes darted around this street in particular._

_There was the café she’d always visited after school as a teenager, the park where she’d go for runs each week, the street that she knew, after eight blocks or so, would lead to her old home._

_But she wasn’t here to reminisce, and the place did little to truly remind her of home. The buildings seemed taller, darker, towering over her. She was dwarfed in this city, always had been. She was reduced to nobody. Another mere individual trying to survive under the reign of the First Order, no different from the trillion other beings on the planet._

_Yet nothing could distract her from the weight of the sniper rifle on her back and the knot in her chest. Her ears strained against the sounds in the distance, listening for footsteps, for other signs of life. Her eye caught one of her fellow operatives in the distance._

_Well in advance, with a honed practice, she slipped into a side street as a squad of Stormtroopers ran past, guarding the streets. There were squads everywhere within a mile and a half radius from the city center, where an important event was taking place that night._

_Her head whipped to the left and right once before her fingers wrapped around the fire escape of the building she was beside. “Am I clear?” she whispered into her comm, ensuring that there were no hostiles about to turn her way._

_“You’re good,” a voice said back. And with that, she began to climb. Up and up and up one of the tallest buildings that could viably be climbed in under a few minutes, one with a clear view of the city center._

_Her muscles burned. The cloth concealing her face was stiflingly hot. But of course, she’d been in worse situations._

_“Thirty seconds,” said her comm. “That’s my estimation till the next squad rounds.”_

Fuck _._

_She climbed faster, four more stories to go. Her heart pounded in her chest as she forced her tortured limbs on, the rifle dragging down her back. The warm night air seemed to cling to her as she grit her teeth._

_Her eyes flicked to an empty spot on another building three over from hers, where a Stormtrooper should have been standing guard, already taken out by another operative._

_Footsteps. She could hear them, perhaps the sign of an ominous reckoning she would soon face. “Go,” the voice in the comm hissed, and with one final leap up three rungs and a monumental effort to get her tired arms to perform a pull up, she rolled onto the roof of the building, panting on her back. “Two minutes.”_

_Two minutes until the routine check-in of the defeated Stormtrooper would be sought out._

_Two minutes to make the shot._

_It didn’t matter how tired she was as she sat up, pulling the rifle off her back and setting it up with a practiced, methodical urgency. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for her and her employers. Months of painstakingly mapping out and predicting Stormtrooper movements, dozens of instances of finding and employing informants to find out more about the event, and years of learning the First Order’s tactics had led to this._

_She laid on her stomach and stared down her scope, her fingers delicately wrapped around the trigger as her eye focused on the star of the night, seemingly giving a particularly riveting speech. She took deep breaths, calming her heart, feeling the wind. She’d never made a shot this far before. Only months of practice had brought her to this._

_Calculations ran through her head, accounting for the wind, the distance, the rotation of the planet._ Pure numbers, _she thought._ That’s all it is.

_In the back of her head, she could nearly hear an imaginary clock ticking down._

_“One minute.”_

_She nearly jumped at the interruption, groaning at her loss of concentration. “Shut up,” she hissed._

_And she took more deep breaths, settling into the ground, becoming part of the tool that was about to end someone’s life. Content on her lineup, double checking her math, the pressure of her index finger increased on the trigger. Her body tensed up, preparing for the kickback, preparing for the consequences._

Bang _._

_One second. The soft whistle of the barrel cooling down._

_Two seconds. The light streaking through the air._

_Three seconds. The bolt making its way toward its mark._

_And she watched, almost in awe and horror, as the speaker on the stage collapsed. Supreme Leader Snoke’s right-hand man in the Core, General Armitage Hux’s dear friend, the Admiral who’d planned Coruscant’s takeover as well as the eradication of entire planets, was dead. By her hand._

_But this was no time to stare in shock. She quickly collapsed her rifle, slinging it onto her back and pulling out her grappling gun. Commotion sounded in the streets below, Stormtroopers who’d heard the blaster bolt, but were still unsure of the consequences._

_“You’re clear. Go!” The voice in her comm answered her question before she could even ask it._

_And with a series of near-hyperventilating breaths, she lodged the hook of her grappling gun into the concrete of the roof and jumped._

_She flew down and across the empty alleyway, the grappling gun slowing her fall just enough for her to not injure herself. Her eyes focused on the metal piping she intended to grab onto to slow her fall with a deadly precision, no different than her mentality towards sharpshooting._

_And with a barely restrained cry, her fingers gripped the piping, only for them to be ripped off by the force of the fall. Her feet collided with the pavement before she collapsed to the ground with a loss of balance, right beside a dark doorway_

_The gun’s wire retreated at her command, and then…footsteps. She could hear footsteps again._

_She rolled to her right, falling another five feet onto pavement, now surrounded by a dimness, a dark hallway stretching out in front of her. And with Stormtroopers mere yards away and a dead Admiral a mile and a half from her location, Agent Lexa Novak of the Coruscanti Resistance slipped into the darkness, allowing herself to be swallowed by the miles of tunnels, pathways, and safe houses beneath the surface of the planet._

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

Present, 31 ABY, Galactic City, First Order-Occupied Coruscant

“The General thanks you.” Those were Poe’s last words to the man he’d been sitting across from in a small room a dozen levels beneath Coruscant’s surface.

The pilot clutched a data stick in his fist as he rode the lift upwards through layers of rock and light and lives. No matter how much he tried to repress it, he couldn’t stop his hands from sweating or his heart from beating tens of beats too fast.

For once in his career in the military and the Resistance, he was completely on his own. Sent into First Order-occupied Coruscant by Leia with faith, there was no way of getting communication in or out. No radio waves, no ships without clearance, no people without permission. His own entrance had taken months to plan; a rescue mission was out of the question—not that anyone would know if he even needed rescue.

As he emerged on the surface, he slipped into the crowds, ducking under awnings and navigating around people. He was just another face here, unlike on base. No longer the son of two war heroes. No longer a Lieutenant who held power. No longer Poe Dameron. Simply a well-concealed freedom fighter attempting to make himself nobody.

He turned into a bar, his tired and anxious mind craving a sense of numbness. Not his wisest decision, but not his worst. The small establishment was across the street from a park, mostly desolate like the majority of public places since the Order had taken over. With the death and pain Coruscant had supposedly endured, Poe wondered if the small patch of green within his eyesight danced with the ghosts of a hundred Coruscanti children.

But there were no children. Just a flock of birds pecking at the ground, captivating Poe’s attention as he sipped the drink he’d quickly ordered. His eyes followed them, focused on them, keen on not missing a single detail, for birds had been Poe’s earliest memories.

Parrots, macaws, hummingbirds…a thousand other nameless, tropical Yavinese species. A flutter of wings. A stream of air. A thousand bullets that erupted from foliage in a million different directions, traveling to a billion different destinations. The epitome of freedom—his first connection to flight.

Perhaps it was the beauty that nearly every bird presented. Perhaps it was the feeling of contentment the small animals always provided him with—

—but birds did not leave his mind when he laid eyes on her.

The two thoughts only merged together, in a combination of puzzlement, wonder, and freedom as he considered that he was simply imagining the image of her.

Her, who was alive and well.

No longer eight years away. Merely eight feet.

The two of them in close vicinity once again in the small bar he had entered on a whim.

She was anxious, weary, slightly tired. Even after the years apart, he could still read her with an acute ease, an inevitable product of moving throughout the galaxy together for so long, relying on each other for so long, _loving_ each other for so long.

Something warm, invigorating, euphoric. That was how he’d always imagined their reunification. But he almost didn’t want to go near her, almost wanted to vanish with no trace of ever existing within this space.

But she—bent over her drink, fingers tapping away—kept him drawn in. A solid anchor, tantalizingly present, not allowing him to come nearer, not allowing him to depart.

He averted his gaze, staring at the intricate lines of wood on the bar, his heart beating faster. Thought on what he should do ran muddled through his head.

A tap on his shoulder. A jump of surprise on his part. “I feel like I should be surprised, but…” The feminine voice locked him in place as he froze. It was soft, familiar, a sound that had once been a constant in an otherwise unfamiliar world.

“Lexa.” Her name rolled off his tongue. The sensation was foreign, only ever said in the silence of his head.

He finally looked up. At the sight of her up close, waves of nostalgia shattered him to his core. The same eyes that had always gazed at him so lovingly bore into him. The same lips that he had kissed over a thousand times begged to be gently run over by his fingers. The same radiant, beautiful smile threatened to force him to his knees before her.

And then something broke as they threw their arms around each other, desperate hands, tight grasps.

“Poe fucking Dameron,” he heard her whisper, her warm breath on his ear. Her small frame seemed to seamlessly line up with his.

When they pulled away, he quickly beckoned for her to sit. Overlapping words of excitement and mild shock flew through the air in a beautiful chaos, questions finding their way out of their mouths before the other had even had a chance to properly answer.

A thought, a question, a response, a cycle that overlapped the next in waves of curiosity and awe.

And when the air settled down, when Poe settled down, there was something new in his chest. A sort of comfort, a sort of belonging. One that felt overwhelmingly familiar as he processed her expression.

He looked for accusation, for anger, for some sort of bitterness, but he found none of it. Only something reminiscent of sadness.

“You ran off to join the Navy,” said Lexa softly. An obvious statement, but one that needed to be said.

He nodded. He would be the first to admit that he’d left her, the first to admit that he’d broken her heart. A new knot formed in his stomach at the memory of her tears all those years ago. “I’m sorry.”

Her lips curled in a sad smile, and he quickly glanced down as she absentmindedly rested her hand on his. “Don’t apologize.”

He quickly beckoned for the bartender, getting her a drink, and when she took a sip, he scrutinized her features. She hadn’t aged much, but she looked more…tired.

“I’m actually with the Resistance now.” He changed the subject.

She raised an eyebrow. “So even you could tell the New Republic wasn’t doing shit about the Order.”

He let out a soft chuckle, but there was no real humor behind it. “And we can see where the New Republic got us now.”

He gestured outside the bar, where even then, Stormtroopers stood in the Coruscanti streets, hunting for easy prey to accuse of treason or misconduct.

“We’ve been in worse,” she sighed. Poe examined her, mulling over her possible circumstances, wondering why she was on Coruscant, whether it be in danger or safety. Of course, Coruscant was a Light side-affiliated planet by nature before being tainted by the Dark, and this was the city that had shaped her.

“I’m not one of them,” she answered, reading his mind. “I’m like every other being after the blockade went up—stuck here….” A pause. “Well, every other being besides you. I’m sure your Resistance has got an exit plan all set up.”

A silence passed, yet no comfort waned.

“You know…I’m not going to lie,” said Poe, his hand finding the back of his neck. “I tried tracking you down a few years ago—“

“And that’s not creepy at all,” she interrupted, the corners of her lips twitching as she played upon his word choice, not even attempting to hide the hint of a smile.

He raised an eyebrow, replying without hesitation. “It’s what I do, love.” A feistiness evidently still remained in her beneath it all.

She rolled her eyes, returning back to the main subject matter. “Well, obviously, you weren’t successful.”

“I wouldn’t write me off so quickly if I were you, sweetheart.”

“No?” She raised an eyebrow. “I don’t remember you being a particularly good gatherer of intelligence.”

He narrowed his eyes, hardly surprised that time had brought no detriment to the banter between them. “I see you’ve still got an attitude problem—“

“Did you expect it to be gone?”

He laughed, intertwining his fingers with hers. “No, not really. It would be a tragedy if it were to vanish.”

“I wholeheartedly agree.” The hint of a smirk on her face made something inside his chest feel at peace. “Now, what were saying about me not writing you off?”

“Right,” he cleared his throat, taking a sip from his drink. “I heard you were stuck on Verlan after the First Order’s blockade went up.”

The playful mood dropped in an instant as she froze at the mention of the planet name, shifting uncomfortably. Both she and Poe knew the horrors that had gone down there a few months after Poe’s departure. She knew them first hand.

“I was,” she said softly, her fingers fidgeting uneasily. New tension rose to replace the comfort. “It was good I got out. If I hadn’t…”

She didn’t need to finish her sentence. They both knew what would have happened to her. The same thing that had happened to millions of others.

A small bitter laugh left her mouth as her hand curled into a fist. He subtly watched as her fingers crept under her sleeve, tracing a hint of a mark on her skin peeking out. Her gaze that had left his eyes found its mark once again with a new focus. “Worst year of my life.”

He swallowed. Her tiredness, her weariness: it suddenly struck him that it wasn’t a temporary thing. It was almost as if a light had gone out in her, had broken a part of her that could never be repaired.

His eyes flicked to the ground for a moment. “You should have come with me,” he whispered. “We would’ve had a good life together.”

She blinked slowly, her hand gently resting on the side of his face, gently brushing the skin beneath his eye. An expression found home on her features, one he couldn’t quite read, and he found himself instinctively leaning into her palm.

She stood, throwing down some money for the drinks before grasping his hand and making for the door. “Come.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You know what I always found so peculiar?”
> 
> “What?”
> 
> “That I could talk to you for hours…tell you my whole life’s story…have this most engaging, enamoring conversation…and still not know a damn thing about you by the end.”

Present (Cont.)

Soft skin and lips and locks. That was all Poe registered as his lips clumsily meshed with hers upon the hasty slamming of her hotel room door. Part of him wanted to ponder how they ended up here after barely a half hour conversation, but all of that was lost to him as one of Lexa’s hands fumbled at his belt, her hand plunging down his pants, forcing a strangled groan from his lips.

He began to nip, kiss, and gently suck at her neck, breathless words escaping when allowed. “Thirty minutes…and you can’t keep your hands off me already.”

A hard force collided with his chest, and he stumbled back, his eyes widening in surprise. She stared at him, her teeth biting her bottom lip, using a monumental effort to restrain a laugh. “Complaining?”

He shook his head, and this time, she did laugh at the quickness of his reaction.

Her hands made contact with his chest, pushing him back till he was sitting on the bed. She straddled him, her fingers roughly gripping his chin before pulling him in for another deep kiss, their lips melding together in a fire that burned brighter than it had in a long time.

They began to strip each other’s clothes off, hands roaming with a familiarity that had been developed and maintained years ago. She ground down on him, a moan unashamedly leaving his lips. When his hips stuttered upwards, she moved away, leaving him wanting.

He glared at her, and she only giggled, giving his hair a tug. The action lit something up within him, and with a hard jerk of his body, he flipped the both of them over. “Not playing your games, sweetheart,” he murmured, now on top of her, slipping two fingers inside her, relishing the feel of her fingernails sinking into his back.

Her hot breath grazed over the shell of his ear as she let out soft pants at his touches caressing her most sensitive and pleasurable spot. “You love my games.”

She pulled her shirt and bra over her head in one swift motion, the last of the clothes on her body, and the sight of her stopped all of Poe’s movements.

She was…well…she was skinny. She’d lost a lot of weight. Enough to concern him. Maybe it was the combination of the lighting, maybe it was the fact that she was inhaling quite deeply, but the prominence with which he could see her bones was too much for his comfort.

“Poe?” she said quietly, and as his eyes flicked back to her face, he found an expression of perhaps slight fear. He immediately knew what she was interpreting his reaction as. Disgust.

“It’s not,” he murmured, resuming his closeness to her, running a line of kisses down her torso, planting one on each of her ribs. “I’ve always loved every inch of you.” He paused, his touch ceasing. “I hope you never doubted that…ever, and you should know—“

She pressed the pad of her thumb to his lips. He knew that she was not only attempting to put the moment past them, but that she was also not one for speeches or unnecessary words.

“Shut up, Dameron,” she breathed. Her fingers traced his bottom lip. “Shut up and show me a piece of this life that we could’ve had together.”

He found a spot between her legs, his hands tenderly caressing her thighs. “Gladly.”

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

“I don’t know. In my opinion, I still think a couple of fathiers could beat the shit out of a wampa.”

She was lying with her head on his chest, her limbs tangled with his.

The pilot sighed. “I suppose it’d be too hard for you to gain a little common sense.”

Lexa giggled. “I think you’re the dumbass here. Not me.”

He rolled his eyes, sighing as the room fell into a comfortable silence. After settling down, regarding no topic to be too ridiculous nor boring, they’d talked like the old days. For hours and hours, and honestly, Poe was honestly unsure of the number of minutes that had flown past.

He twirled a small section of her black hair around his fingers as he stared down at her resting on his chest in a near wonder. The shock of finding her amongst millions of stars, billions of planets, trillions of cities, and quadrillions of beings was a surreal feeling.

He finally took a chance to glance around the hotel room, his eyes catching on a weapon sitting on a desk across the room.

“You have a blaster,” he simply remarked.

She nodded, shifting slightly to throw an arm over his waist. “I’ve been doing work for the Coruscanti Resistance.”

Poe cocked his head slightly to the side, realizing he hadn’t know that and staring at the ceiling before a small chuckle left his lips.

She raised an eyebrow, lifting her head just enough to look at him, her pale skin illuminated in the soft light of the room coming through the window. “What?”

“You were always sort of an…enigma, I suppose,” he told her, lacing his fingers with hers. “You know what I always found so peculiar?”

She rolled off of him, propping her chin up with her hands and elbows, intrigued. “What?”

“That I could talk to you for hours…tell you my whole life’s story…have this most engaging, enamoring conversation…and still not know a damn thing about you by the end.”

She had a way with words, a way of evoking memory in a manner that would distract even the most selfless listener’s curiosity in who she was.

Yet at his words, she laughed. “I hardly believe that, Dameron.”

His jaw dropped in faux offense. “Really? Is that so?”

“You know my opinion on the outcome between a wampa and fathier fight.”

“No,” he protested. “I meant serious things.”

She smirked, sitting up and resting a single forefinger on his chest. “And who are you to judge whether that is serious or not?”

He paused. “You’re doing it again right now.”

“Doing what?”

“Diverting my attention to avoid answering my question.” He sat up too, his calloused hands delicately grasping her waist, feeling her soft skin. His fingers grazed over the mark on her arm and traced over a lump of scar tissue on her back, neither of which had been there when he’d last seen her. He’d asked already, and upon further recollection, he realized she’d unsurprisingly changed the subject from them so masterfully that he’d barely noticed. “Like these,” he said softly. “I want to know how you got these.”

Her gaze froze on him a moment before she escaped his grasp and left the bed entirely, not a care in the world to her bare form. She opted to stand at the window, looking at the world below. They were too high up for anyone to see.

“Lexa?” His brow furrowed in confusion and concern as he watched her. “Lexi.” He repeated her name again, this time using the nickname he’d coined long ago, his tone less of a question and more of a plea this time around.

“The scars,” said Lexa quietly. “That’s a story for another time.”

He could hear the request behind her words clear as day. Please don’t ask me again.

There was something concerning to her posture, Poe decided. She looked small, defeated, with her thin form and paleness in the lighting.

“Lexi?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you happy?”

That question made her freeze. “What?”

His eyes focused on her with an intensity, intending to get an answer out of his question. “I asked if you were happy.” He knew the signs all too well: the irregular eating patterns, the guarded mentality; he’d seen them all before. And, of course, what she’d gone through on Verlan after the Order had taken over…

She studied something on the desk intently, perhaps something nonexistent. “You know…if you’d ever asked my family that, they’d tell you I’d never been a happy person.” A speeder horn sounded out the window, another contributor to the flurry of sounds that flew through the air just outside the walls. “I should be, shouldn’t I? Trillions have it worse.”

“That doesn’t answer the question.”

She turned to face him, slowly pacing the room and sitting on the bed beside him. “Am I happy?” She repeated the question over again, saying the words slowly, enunciating each one clearly as if interpreting their true meaning.

She sighed, brushing a few strands of her hair out of her face. “I’m not sad.”

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

Two Days Later

“You could come with me, you know. If you want.” Poe frowned slightly at the similarity of his words to her as compared to what he’d said when he’d left her on Verlan eight years ago.

They were standing near an airfield this time, where Poe was preparing to leave the planet to return to D’Qar. Lexa shook her head slightly. “My place is here.”

He didn’t contest her, didn’t challenge her like before. If that was what she wanted, she would have it.

“Alright,” he sighed. He slung his bag over his shoulder. “I’ll probably be back next month.”

“And I’ll be right here.”

He grinned at that, pulling her close to him and pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “It was good seeing you, sweetheart.”

“You too.” She threw her arms around him in a tight hug before pulling away. “See you around, love.”

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

Soon After Poe’s Return, Resistance Base, D’Qar

Leia Organa sat in front of a holopad, her mouth in a thin line as she turned the data stick Poe had retrieved for her from Coruscant in her hand.

It’d all began two months ago with a stranger who’d showed on base, claiming that she knew someone on Coruscant who’d be able to feed Leia information about the Order from the inside. The stranger had no name, her supposed contact had no name.

And then the stranger had vanished the next day, leaving behind only a promise and a location where one of Leia’s operatives could meet with the insider.

That was the part Leia didn’t like, having to send one of her own in with no lifeline. There would not contact once her chosen operative was in. It would be in and out all alone.

The lack of accountability, the lack of knowledge on their actions, the Order on all sides—for these reasons, she needed someone she could trust. And that person was, without a doubt, Poe Dameron.

The whole thing was a huge risk. She knew that. Poe was a Lieutenant, an ace pilot, much too valuable to risk, let alone to gain information from an informant that might not have even existed. But it’d felt right.

And so Leia turned the data stick over a few times more before a deep breath left her lips, and she plugged it in.

_Report to General Leia Organa #1_

_7/23/31_

_Known First Order imports:_

_-3,000 E-11 blaster rifles_

_-100 twin ion engines_

_-500 steel gas tanks_

_-1,000 tanks of ammonia_

_Additional:_

_-200 protesters dead in the former CoCo district_

_-New Stormtrooper training facility being set up_

_-Food scarcity increasing_

_-New trade route that’ll pass through an area about 10 parsecs out from the Illenium System; be wary_

_Notes: There have been whispers among the higher-ups. Something big is coming. I don’t know what. Aside from that, I’m sorry there isn’t more, General. If you’re willing, same time, same place, same date next month. I may have more, but that’s not a promise._

_-Your friend in the Order_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who’s read so far. Let me know what you think in a comment!


End file.
